Once A Queen
by ecscott
Summary: Susan Pevensie wasn't in the train crash that killed her family. For one reason or another, she was left behind. Learning to pick up the pieces after your family has died isn't easy. Having to confront the possibility that they may have been transported to another world is less so.


Susan Pevensie had decided a long time ago (longer than she cared to admit) that, whatever else she was in life, she was not patient. She hadn't been patient in her rush to grow up, and now, at twenty-one, she had absolutely no patience for those who treated her like she was still a child. Namely, this tiny, wizened solicitor that now sat across the desk from her. In her mind, she imagined that, once upon a time, he may possibly been rather dashing. But time had not been kind, and now the poor old fellow was hunched and gnarled and positively creaked... Rather like a tree when he spoke... No. Absolutely no patience for him at all. And what, pray tell, was he blathering about now? With only the barest twinge of remorse, she admitted she'd stopped listening to him ages ago.

"As I've quite clearly spelt out before, Mr. Scrubb, the will states that Miss Pevensie must reside in Lantern House for a year-long period before she can come into full possession of the property."

"Mr. Holt," Susan said through gritted teeth, framed by the fashionable lipstick she took such painstaking care to maintain. "I am twenty-one years old, I have reached my majority, so you may direct your attention towards me, if you please. My uncle is merely here as my witness, not my protector."

No offense, Uncle, she added mentally. Indeed, she couldn't visualize her uncle protecting anyone. Short, skinny, balding, and totally unprepossessing, perhaps Eustace was lucky that he'd never have to find out which parent he'd take after. But that thought made it hard to breathe all of a sudden, so it was all she could do to choke out her next statement.

"My passage is booked, my belongings are packed, my way is set. I am to go to America, and there remain, for the foreseeable future. Or else as long as I see fit. Nothing will deter me from leaving England. So you need to find a timely way in which I can dispose of Lantern House."

"Simply put, Miss. Pevensie, you can't. I realize that you have made your own plans, and I'm sympathetic to your situation, as well as sorry for your loss..."

Here, Susan stiffened. If she had to listen to one more person's false so-called sympathy... Mr. Holt shrugged. A gesture she would not have expected from one so... Old.

"But the law is the law," he said, smiling tightly. "Merry olde England, you understand." At this point, he produced from somewhere in his desk a set of old fashioned keys, and a letter. "These are the keys to Lantern House. There is a tenant there now. A Mr. Andrew Macready, who is a student at Oxford. You may have known his aunt at one point. I understand she was the housekeeper at Professor Kirke's old estate."

Susan remembered, vividly, Mrs. Macready's sharp voice telling her and her siblings about all the sorts of things they couldn't do as children in a large historic house, but wanted to.

"His lease is not up until the end of the school year, so your respective times in residence will overlap substantially. Might I suggest that you hire some sort of housekeeper, or take a female companion with you during your stay. I'm sure you would like to avoid any appearance of impropriety."

The red in Susan's cheeks nearly rivaled the red on her lips. "To be frank, Mr. Holt, I would have rather avoided this situation altogether. But, seeing how that is impossible, I'll take your suggestion under advisement." She rose to her feet, eager for the interview to be over. "I'll make the necessary arrangements and keep you informed as to my dates of travel. That should satisfy your legal requirements, should it not?" On that, not waiting for her uncle, and barely acknowledging his presence in the first place, she turned to leave.

"Miss. Pevensie." The creaking voice of Mr. Holt arrested her attention. "If I may ask, why are you in such a rush to go to America? What's the attraction?"

Susan smiled. A slow smile full of mischief, but devoid, one would have to admit, of any genuine warmth. "A man, Mr. Holt. Isn't that always the attraction?" And out the door she flounced.

It was a purposeful flounce.

* * *

Hi Readers,

My name is E.C., Liz to my friends. I have been a longtime reader of fanfiction, and have had a few false starts, but this is the first time I've ever tried to actually publish anything here on the site. I'll be mostly writing this on my phone, so the chapters will be shorter (more like scenes), and I'm not entirely sure how often I'll be updating. I'll tell this story for as long as I think it's worth telling. It will be rough, and I definitely think I'll look back someday and want to refine it, but for now I'm mostly happy just to get anything down. It feels like a big step forward. Please take care of me! :)

-Liz.


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